This week was hard- like, really, really hard for me. Freelance Journalist from Bushwick wanted to see me again, and I couldn't decide what to do. I didn't want to see him again, but I didn't NOT want to see him again, which I took as a sign that I should give it another shot. I'd had a good time, and if I hadn't met him immediately after having a better time with Crazy Chinatown Man, I might have been more excited.
I reminded myself that, logically speaking, it is a bad idea to hang hopes and dreams for a future family on a man with a proven track record of impulsivity who lives in a different state, and I begrudgingly consented to a second date after Freelance Journalist tried several times. He asked Friday night ("I'm with friends"), Saturday day ("I have so many errands to run, and I need to do my taxes") then again Sunday evening, which I agreed to if we could meet after 7:30 so I could go to my 6 pm yoga class. This plan stuck until he was running late and wanted to meet half and hour later, and I saw my opportunity to cancel. "I have to go to bed at 9:30. Would another night be better for you?" "Yes," he said, and I was so relieved.
Again, it's not that I didn't want to see him. I just wanted to do other things more- like sleeping and errands and working out and MY TAXES. Jesus.
Then I had to send a second rejection text to the man who I'd sent a first rejection text to two months ago and continued to spend the night with casually for a month. Incidentally also a stoner transplanted from Bushwick, he had been asking to see me for several weeks and I kept cancelling plans. My feelings for him were similar. I had a nice time with him and I didn't have any strong objection to hanging out and having sex, but I'd rather sleep and run errands and work out and do my taxes. I told him that "I'm juggling a lot right now and am thinking I should take a break from physical intimacy for the time being." He seemed disappointed but understanding and courteous. "Maybe in the future," I said. "I just need to work through some stuff and don't want to string you along while I do that." It was a true statement.
Which brought me to this weekend, spent almost entirely by myself sleeping and running errands and working out and doing taxes, with the hum of the heater and pitter-patter of Seattle rain outside my window. It was a lonely weekend made lonelier by declining the company of two men who both would have gladly curled up with me in my bed and listened to the rain, but my mind was elsewhere, and I just couldn't.
I reminded myself that, logically speaking, it is a bad idea to hang hopes and dreams for a future family on a man with a proven track record of impulsivity who lives in a different state, and I begrudgingly consented to a second date after Freelance Journalist tried several times. He asked Friday night ("I'm with friends"), Saturday day ("I have so many errands to run, and I need to do my taxes") then again Sunday evening, which I agreed to if we could meet after 7:30 so I could go to my 6 pm yoga class. This plan stuck until he was running late and wanted to meet half and hour later, and I saw my opportunity to cancel. "I have to go to bed at 9:30. Would another night be better for you?" "Yes," he said, and I was so relieved.
Again, it's not that I didn't want to see him. I just wanted to do other things more- like sleeping and errands and working out and MY TAXES. Jesus.
Then I had to send a second rejection text to the man who I'd sent a first rejection text to two months ago and continued to spend the night with casually for a month. Incidentally also a stoner transplanted from Bushwick, he had been asking to see me for several weeks and I kept cancelling plans. My feelings for him were similar. I had a nice time with him and I didn't have any strong objection to hanging out and having sex, but I'd rather sleep and run errands and work out and do my taxes. I told him that "I'm juggling a lot right now and am thinking I should take a break from physical intimacy for the time being." He seemed disappointed but understanding and courteous. "Maybe in the future," I said. "I just need to work through some stuff and don't want to string you along while I do that." It was a true statement.
Which brought me to this weekend, spent almost entirely by myself sleeping and running errands and working out and doing taxes, with the hum of the heater and pitter-patter of Seattle rain outside my window. It was a lonely weekend made lonelier by declining the company of two men who both would have gladly curled up with me in my bed and listened to the rain, but my mind was elsewhere, and I just couldn't.
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